


Becoming Lardo

by loud_as_lions



Series: SMH Origins [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Marijuana, Self-Discovery, as if cp needed more of those, injury mention, kennedy mcdonough is a useless gay ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23639506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loud_as_lions/pseuds/loud_as_lions
Summary: Larissa was different with these boys than she was with anyone else.She had always thought that all the talk about finding yourself in college was bullshit, but these boys were making her wonder just how much of what she had previously believed might be changed by this place.Alternatively,SMH Origins: Lardo
Relationships: Adam "Holster" Birkholtz & Larissa "Lardo" Duan & Justin "Ransom" Oluransi, John Johnson/Kennedy McDonough (OMC), Larissa "Lardo" Duan & Jack Zimmermann, Larissa "Lardo" Duan & Shitty Knight, Larissa "Lardo" Duan/Shitty Knight
Series: SMH Origins [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958179
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48
Collections: Going Out With A Big Bang 2020





	Becoming Lardo

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! 
> 
> This fic is an idea that's been bouncing around in my head since summer 2018 when I first started reading Check, Please! So, it seems fitting to post as a part of this event. 
> 
> I was paired with an incredible artist for this event and even thought I went MIA for a while bc of personal stuff, they still came through created something wonderful for this fic. Shout out to you, Frida! Thank you so much!! 
> 
> The beautiful piece of art that accompanies this piece can be found [on Frida's tumblr!](https://pretty-meris.tumblr.com/post/615421295520268288)
> 
> Disclaimer: I know shockingly little about hockey, weed, and art.

Kennedy couldn't really explain how, but he knew she'd apply. He'd left applications all over campus except for the studio, knowing if he left them unattended they'd likely be used as a crafting regent. But there, at the bottom of the application pile, was Larissa Duan's loopy scrawl. He grinned wide, and called the number she'd put at the bottom of the sheet while skimming it over. 

"Larissa Duan? Hi, this is Kennedy McDonough, Manager of the Samwell Men's Hockey team. I looked over your application, and was wondering what the earliest time you're able to come in for an interview would be. Okay, 'swasome. I look forward to meeting you. Bye."

At some point during the call, Shitty had wandered into the Haus kitchen with him. "Isn’t it sort of early to be interviewing your wannabe’s? It’s not even December.” 

"No use waiting when I know who I want." McDonough shrugged, putting Larissa's application on the table and reaching for his coffee. 

One of Shitty's eyebrows were raised as he joined Kennedy at the table, bowl of cereal in hand. "You already know? How?”

It was a fair question. He’d asked himself the same thing just a few hours ago when he’d taken the application out of his mailbox at the student center. He’d asked Johnson, too, which was why he was doing this now. Though he was a year younger than McDonough, John Johnson always seemed to know exactly what he needed to hear. It was part of why McDonough had such a huge fucking crush on him- but that wasn't the point.

Larissa Duan never cared about what anyone thought of her. To a point, it was even impressive. Which is exactly why Kennedy thought of her for managing the Samwell Men's Hockey Team once he started looking for his replacement.

He'd seen her a few times in the studio when he had his art elective. He'd watched her tackle huge canvases like they were mountains, hers for the taking. Had his breath taken away as, day by day, he saw her chisel stone into what easily could have been a living man. It reminded him of Johnson, the way it stood tall and still and silent and managed to be beautiful anyway. In all fairness, everything reminded him of Johnson. 

That wasn't the point, either. 

The point was, Johnson had looked him right in the eyes and told him to trust his gut. McDonough didn’t know how much faith he’d usually put in his instincts, but he trusted Johnson implicitly. Besides, when your goalie looked you dead in the eyes and told you to trust your gut, you did. 

"When you meet her, you’ll get it." Kennedy explained. Shitty's eyes widened marginally. "She's coming in tomorrow. If the boys ask, remind them to be themselves. She should know what she's getting into."

Shitty put a hand to his head and saluted. "You got it, boss."

* * *

Larissa showed up at the Haus ten minutes early for her interview. She was about to knock on the front door when a dark haired boy opened it on his way out. 

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't-" the guy stammered. 

Larissa smiled at him. It had never really occurred to her that jocks could be awkward. It was endearing; humanizing. "No worries. I'm here to see Kennedy McDonough, but I'm a little early. Any chance he's around?"

"Oh, you're here for the manager interview?" he asked. His voice was sort of stiff, maybe a little monotoned? Larissa didn’t think people could actually sound like that outside of movies. She nodded, and he nodded back. "Great. You can come in. I'll take you to McDonough." he told her, stepping aside and allowing her to come in. She stepped into the Haus and he shut the door behind her before leading her through a grungy hallway and into an even grungier living room. 

There, sitting on what looked like a large piece of mold in the shape of a couch, sat a vaguely familiar boy. He looked up at her and her guide when they entered and smiled. "Oh, Larissa, you're early." 

"I found her on the porch when I was about to go for my run." the dark haired guy explained. 

Larissa rolled her eyes. "I'm not a stray cat. And I was about to knock."

Kennedy smiled at the two of them. "Thank you, Jack. Larissa, we can sit in the kitchen, yeah?" 

Jack gave Larissa a small wave as he left, which Larissa shot finger guns back at before following Kennedy and taking the seat across the table from him. 

She could feel sweat on the small of her back. She was nervous, but the kind smile Kennedy was giving her over his clipboard was reassuring. 

Kennedy put his clipboard down, and Larissa resisted the urge to look down and see what was on it. 

“This is gonna be pretty chill. Coaches have to approve whoever I pick, so they can handle the formal stuff.” Kennedy said, effectively wicking away the rest of Larissa’s nerves. It was just like chatting before art class. She could do this. “I just wanna make sure you know what you’re getting into, and that you’ll take care of my boys when I’m gone.” 

Larissa smiled. “I don’t have any hockey or sports experience, really, but I’m good at managing chaos.” she gave a small shrug.

“I don’t doubt that.” Kennedy said, “But the team is a handful. The job is hard at times, especially during a rough season or if the team makes it to the playoffs. It’s a lot of schedules and micromanaging, but it’s also sort of babysitting.” 

Larissa raised her eyebrows. “I’m no babysitter.” She had half a mind to quit right there, but Kennedy winced and scratched the back of his head. 

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant. Not the way you’re probably thinking, anyway. Just… the guys that some through this team can be a lot.” he sighed, and Larissa found herself leaning in slightly, interested. 

“If you’re playing hockey in college, you care a hell of a lot about the game. Some guys care because they love it; some care because it’s their scholarship and they couldn’t be here without it. Sometimes both, sometimes there’s another reason entirely. Whatever it is, I’ve never seen a guy on the team not lose himself at least a little in it all.” His eyes were far away for a moment, like he was remembering a specific instance of this.

Larissa almost felt like she should look away and let him relive the memory in peace, but before she could he was back. “The class work, hockey, being away from home. I keep the team running- and a lot of the time that means grounding the team and keeping them on track. Physically, with their classes, emotionally, whatever.”

Larissa leaned back in her chair and looked Kennedy over. She’d noticed him too in the studio. He was a sculptor as far as she’d seen, cranking out these tiny delicate tea cups and plates. He hand painted them, too, fine details and tiny brushes and sometimes Larissa couldn’t look away because the irony of someone so big and brutish creating the most delicate thing in the room was hard to ignore. 

“I’ve never done anything like that.” Larissa admitted. She knew logically that it wasn’t probably the best thing to tell your interviewer you might not have the skills for the job, but Kennedy’s eyes were kind and his smile was overwhelming and she didn’t want to lie to him. “Not for anyone besides myself, anyway.”

Kennedy chuckled. “That’s funny. When I started, I knew how to be that for everyone except myself.” Larissa blinked at his honesty, earning another chuckle. “Just being frank. Point is: yeah I help the team, but this team brought out a lot in me, too.”

It was cheesy as hell, but he sounded so genuine that Larissa felt herself nodding along with him. 

“Why don’t you shadow me? We can spend some time together so you can see what it’s like walking in my shoes before you step into them.” 

And that… well, that sounded good. Larissa liked the job in theory, but she also was an art major who had fled the library to escape the Men’s Hockey Team at least once already in her short time at Samwell so… a test run before meeting coaches and signing paperwork was definitely a smart choice. 

“Sure. When?” 

Kennedy pulled his phone out of his sweatshirt pocket and poked around at it for a moment. “Well, if you really wanna know what it’ll be like, we have morning practice tomorrow at 6.”

Larissa must have made a face because Kennedy barked out a laugh. “Not a morning person?”

“I’m not an anything person until 10 at the earliest.” 

He laughed again, and Larissa wondered how he managed to be so damn friendly. “Well, I won’t take it personally if you say no. But if you can’t do the morning practices I wouldn’t be able to give you the position.” 

“Okay, then.” Lardo nodded, already grieving her missed hours of sleep. “6 it is.”

Kennedy grinned. “‘Swawesome.”

* * *

Larissa’s phone alarm went off at 5 in the goddamn morning. She had half a mind to text Kennedy McDonough a “thanks but no thanks” and go the hell back to bed until her 10am class. But, she thought about her seriously dwindling bank account, and her lack of friends on campus, and how much she loved watching hockey with her dad. 

So she rolled out of bed and made herself look as presentable as she possibly could without turning the light on and waking up her roommate. 

The trek to Faber was surprisingly nice. Campus was lowkey gorgeous in the early morning sun, and the quiet was an eerie sort of peaceful.

Larissa folded her arms across her chest, bracing herself as she entered Faber. She wandered for a few minutes, getting caught up in how pretty the morning light looked hitting all the Samwell reds on the walls around her. Then, thankfully, she heard footsteps approaching and turned to find Kennedy approaching her.

“Larissa, you made it! Good morning.” 

She made a peace sign at him- the most enthusiasm she could manage at this ungodly hour. “Morning.” 

Kennedy wasted no time, holding out a clipboard to her and heading towards the rink. Larissa followed quickly. The morning version of Kennedy was a little less smiley, and a little more down-to-business. Or maybe that was the manager version of him, Larissa didn’t know. It was interesting to see, though. 

When they walked into the rink, Larissa took a deep breath- the smell of the Faber ice took her back to her first time in a rink. She didn’t think that it was such a vivid memory, but she could practically see TD Garden through her eleven year old eyes. The packed stadium, the wild crowd, she and her dad cheering along with them as the Bruins took the ice. 

“Larissa?” Kennedy asked, and Larissa opened her eyes. She hadn’t even realized she had shut them. His gaze was questioning, but she gave him a small smile and his own returned. “I’m not gonna have you meet the team until after. I think them knowing you’re here will just distract them.” 

Larissa nodded. “You don’t think they’ll notice me? I’m not that short.” 

Kennedy laughed. “It’s morning practice, they’re pretty much still asleep until they hit the ice.” 

This proved true about five minutes later, when the team came trudging in. There were very few of them who didn’t look like zombies. Only one of them really looked like he was fully awake- the black haired guy she’d met the day before. That… felt like it fit. 

She watched as the team came alive as they did warm ups around the rink. It was incredible, really. These men could go from 0 to 100 intimidatingly fast. 

Larissa flipped through the clipboard that Kennedy gave her. The first paper on it was a roster- definitely useful. He’d even gone through the trouble of writing down each boy’s nickname next to their name, number, and position. She felt a sharp fondness in her heart for McDonough; he was definitely thorough. She got why he was their manager.

At the bottom of the roster, right underneath: _Team Manager: Kennedy “Mickey” McDonough_

there was something scrawled in red pen.

_Manager in Training: Larissa “?” Duan_

Larissa shook her head, smirking. He really was sure of himself, wasn’t he? She didn’t get it, but she appreciated the enthusiasm. 

She took some notes on the lined paper McDonough had thought to put on the clipboard and by the time the whistle blew signaling the end of practice, she had to stretch out her hands to stop them from cramping up. 

Kennedy nudged her with his elbow as he peeked at her clipboard. “Damn, Duan. That’s a lot of notes.” 

Larissa shrugged. “I’m observant.”

“I don’t have anything until our art class at 10.” Kennedy told her, leading her out of the rink. “Want to get breakfast when we’re done here and go over stuff?” 

She nodded eagerly. Because apparently, at some point between waking up at the asscrack of dawn and now, she had become excited about this. Invested, even. 

“Where are we going, by the way?” Larissa asked.

Too little, too late, apparently. Her question was answered when Kennedy pushed open a door and there was the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team in various states of undress. Larissa looked to Kennedy, who was grinning at his teammates and not at all realizing how weird this was. 

Larissa felt like she was being tested. So despite the number of dongs in the room, she plastered an uninterested look on her face and made sure her gaze didn’t wander. 

“Listen up, boys!” Kennedy called. The players turned to him, and some covered up as they noticed Larissa at his side.

“As you all know, this is my last year here at Samwell.” there was a chorus of “boo’s” from the team, and Kennedy chuckled.

“Agreed. But, as the inevitable approaches I’ll be training someone to take my place.” He gestured to Larissa, who gave a small smile and wave. 

“This is Larissa Duan. She’s one of the applicants for the position. She shadowed me at practice today, and I’m hoping she’ll agree to continue shadowing me.” he turned to her and smirked. “Assuming these fools haven’t driven you away already?”

She could feel everyone looking at her, and she almost wanted to turn and run, but she forced herself to keep her cool and shrug. “Not yet, but don’t push your luck.” 

There were some laughs around the room, and Kennedy’s fucking sunshine smile was back and she tried not to show how nervous she was. It was rare that Larissa cared what people thought. She was an art student, for fuck’s sake. An art student who didn’t exactly fit in that well with the art kids, either, for that matter. But for some reason she really wanted these boys to like her. 

“You heard the woman, boys. Now get showered and out of here so I can leave.” Kennedy called, and they all got back to it. A heavy hand patted Larissa’s shoulder as Kennedy turned to her. “C’mon, I’ll give you a little tour.”

He showed her around the locker room, and gave her a brief introduction to Hall and Murray. They seemed nice, despite all the shouting they had done at practice. 

Once all the players had cleared out, McDonough grabbed his bag and the two of them headed to Annie’s. 

* * *

“These notes are great, Larissa.” 

Larissa felt a rush of pride color her cheeks. “My dad used to coach a kids team. Guess it rubbed off.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you came from a hockey family.” Kennedy said, shoving a forkful of pancake in his mouth. 

Larissa chuckled. “I guess? My mom couldn’t care less, but my dad likes it, and we like that he likes it.” 

“Did he ever play?” 

Larissa took a big gulp of her coffee before answering. “In a beer league before I was born. Then he just started watching it religiously instead” she took another sip before adding, “We’re Bruins fans, obviously.” 

Kennedy laughed, nodding. “My family is the same way. Bruins or bust in the McDonough household.”

They finished their breakfasts in an amicable silence before he spoke up again. “You said your dad liked hockey, and you liked that he liked it. But… do you like it?” 

She was quiet, sipping her iced coffee and listening to the hum of people talking in the booth beside them for a few moments. “I don’t know if I have any feelings about it that are my own.”

It wasn’t true until she said it. If she had been asked before now, before this topsy turvy day she would have said yes. Of course she did. Go Bruins. But after stepping into Faber today… all her fond hockey memories were about her dad.

_Her father trying to teach her how to skate when she was little- and failing miserably._

_Drinking hot cocoa and watching him skate around with the kids at the community rink._

_Her first Bruins game._

_Her mother spending game nights with her earplugs in because of how loud Larissa and her father got shouting at the TV._

She cared about hockey then. But it was hard not to care when her father was smiling so brightly next to her. She sat on his shoulders and cheered just as loud as him. She cried when they lost, and skipped school for parades when they won. She sharpened skates and tightened laces for the peewee hockey kids with a smile on her face. 

But did Larissa _like_ hockey? 

“That’s what we’ve got to figure out, then.” Kennedy said, pulling Larissa out of her thoughts. 

She blinked across the table at him. “We?”

“Duh. I’m invested now.” he said, as if it were obvious. “Besides, I’m not giving this job to someone who doesn’t even like hockey. That’s a shitty teen romcom waiting to happen.” 

Larissa laughed and nodded. “Okay. How, though?”

Kennedy picked his clipboard up off the table and flipped through it. He pulled out the paper he was looking for and handed it to her. 

The team schedule. 

“We’ve got a big home game next Saturday for Family Weekend. We’re gonna be going hard until then. Shadow me until then. I’ll start training you, and you’ll see if this is for you. If you still want the job at the end of it, then that’ll probably tell us.”

Larissa nodded, and Kennedy extended his fist to her across the table. She smirked and bumped fists with him. 

“‘Swawesome,” 

Larissa raised an eyebrow at him, and he laughed. “You’ll get used to it.”

* * *

Practice later that day is immediately different than morning practice had been in a lot of ways. 

First off, the team is loud as hell. 

Larissa can’t remember how exactly to get to the locker room when she first walks into Faber, but she figures it out quickly enough by just following the noise. When she enters, she’s met with a giant blonde dude yelling “She came back!” and most of the team whipping around to look at her. 

She sees Kennedy smirking at her and she smirks back. “‘Sup,” she nods at the room, and most of the guys holler back greetings. Larissa makes her way to McDonough’s side, who shows her where she can put her things and tells her to meet some of the guys while they get ready. 

She decides the best plan of action is to start with the players who look the most ready (i.e. most clothed). Which, incidentally, is the guy she’d already had a not-so-successful meeting with. The guy she now knew was the team’s captain, despite being only a sophomore.

“Jack, right?” she asked, sitting down beside him as he laced up his skates. 

Jack glanced over at her and smiled. “Yeah, hey.” He finished tying the laces on the skate he was working on before turning her fully and extending his hand. “Nice to actually meet you, Larissa.” 

They shake hands and Jack goes back to doing up his skates. Larissa looks around the room carefully, trying to decide who to approach next, when Jack speaks up again. “Sorry about yesterday. It’s hard for me to be a person sometimes when my brain is in workout mode.” he was still focused on his skate, but Larissa smiled at him anyway. 

“No worries, I get it.” 

Jack gave her a sideways glance, and she shrugged. “I get the same way with my art. And I guess, as a sports guy, working out and stuff is kinda your art.” 

He blinked at her for a moment and then a small smile spread on his face. It was striking. Not because it was a great smile- it was, of course, but that wasn’t why. It was just so different from the one he had given her before, just moments ago. It was soft and kind and genuine and it wasn’t until she saw this one that she realized the other one hadn’t been. Larissa felt both overwhelmingly sad and honored at the same time because of it. 

She grinned at him. 

“Hey, Jackabelle, you seen my- holy shit what in the fuck is happening here?” 

Larissa looked from Jack to the guy standing in front of them, then frowned. He was stark naked, and her face was far too close to dong-level for comfort.

She looked past the dong and up at the man’s face. “Yikes,” she said, half because of the dong in her face and half because the person who it belonged to was unfairly attractive. 

The long haired guy blinked at her, and she held out her fist to him. “Larissa Duan,” she told him as he bumped her fist. 

“Shitty Knight,” he told her, grinning between her and Jack. “More importantly, was Jackie-poo here actually fucking smiling at you?”

A blonde guy putting his jersey on next to Jack chimed in. “Bro, do you two know each other? Because if not that’s totally a record.” He looked at Larissa and clarified, “It took a month for Jack to even crack a smile at one of my jokes.”

Larissa rolled her eyes at their antics. She felt the need to stand up for Jack, but before she could he chuckled. “That’s because you’re not as funny as you think you are, Holster.”

Other guys around them laughed, Holster reached over to shove Jack’s shoulder, who chuckled at him again. Larissa felt herself relax at the behavior, glad she hadn’t accidentally started some weird bro-fight. 

“Anyway,” she turned to look at the guy who was still naked next to her. “Shitty, was it?” 

He grinned down at her. “At your service,” he gave her an exaggerated bow- which, naked, was a sight to behold. 

“Good to hear,” she smirked, “Now get your damn gear on before I convince your captain you’ll benefit from extra drills after practice.” 

Shitty’s eyes widened marginally and Larissa could hear laughter from Jack beside her as his moustached friend got his gear on at a quicker than normal pace.

* * *

After practice, Larissa got to tackle her first team dinner. 

The dining halls were always noisy, but sitting with the hockey team was another world all it’s own. They took up an entire table and most of them shared food, picking off each other's plates and passing food around like it was a family holiday. She sat between Jack and McDonough, who were talking to her about the team’s dining habits. 

“We, obviously, can eat whatever we want,” McDonough explained, gesturing to himself and Larissa, “But since I eat most meals with them, I generally stick to the diet plan too so I don’t tease them too much.”

Ransom gave a pointed look at Larissa’s plate. “Clearly you won’t spare us the same way.” 

Larissa shoved a few fries in her mouth and grinned at him, causing the boys around her to laugh while Ransom stuck his tongue out at her. 

It was absolute chaos, a mass of chatter and flung peas and laughter that left a warm feeling in Larissa’s chest. 

“Well, guess I’ll see you boys bright and early.” she said, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. 

McDonough gave her a grin and a wave, and Jack stood up beside her. “Shitty and I were gonna head to the library. We can walk you back to your dorm on the way.” 

Larissa looked over at Shitty, who looked surprised but not upset by this development. “He’s right,” Shitty added, “Samwell’s a pretty safe campus, but why not walk with buds if you can?” 

“Okay, sure. Thanks.” she nodded at him before smiling up at Jack. 

The three said farewell to their teammates and headed out towards the first year dorms. 

It wasn’t a far walk from the dining hall to Larissa’s dorm, but Shitty had been right, it was more fun to walk with company. 

“So, Larissa,” Jack began as they turned onto the Quad. “You’re a freshman, right? How are you liking Samwell?”

It was a stereotypical first year student question- but it was also the first non-hockey related thing she had heard Jack say, and that felt significant somehow. “It’s cool. I like my classes and stuff.”

Jack nodded, and it was Shitty’s turn to press on. “But?” They both looked at him, and he pointed an accusing finger at her. “C’mon, it’s your first semester in college and you sound neutral. There’s gotta be a but.”

“You’re the butt, Shitty. Leave her alone.” Jack said.

Shitty and Lardo looked at each other and began laughing. Larissa put a hand on Jack’s arm. “Dude, that was bad.”

Shitty nodded. “Good try, bruh.”

“Whatever. See if I try to save you from Shitty interrogation again, Duan.” 

This caused Shitty to look at her again, and she shrugged. “I guess I just haven’t really found my people yet. No big.”

“What about your roommate?” Jack suggested.

Larissa sighed. “She’s nice enough, but she’s a dance major so she’s really busy and basically has built in friends.” 

Jack nodded and they walked a few moments in silence. Larissa kicked a small rock in front of her as they went. 

“Brah,” Shitty spoke up, “What about us?”

Larissa looked at him. 

“The hockey team. I mean, I know you’re not manager yet, but you held your own today. You could be one of us.”

He said it with such certainty. It was blatant and kind and he had this sort of manic sideways grin on his face and for a moment Larissa felt like she couldn’t breathe. So she nodded and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

* * *

It became normal at a shockingly quick pace. Larissa woke up, went to Faber for morning practice, had breakfast with McDonough, did classes and studio hours, went to afternoon practice, had dinner with the team, did homework, went to bed and started it all over the next day. 

She had a routine now, instead of just waking up whenever before 10 and finding random, non-productive things to fill her time between classes and before bed. Larissa had worried her new obligation would take a toll on her art, but it hadn’t. She was still making progress on her pieces the same way she had been for the first few months of college. She could still go to the studio whenever she wanted, as long as it wasn’t during practice times. 

Larissa found she was fitting in with the team quite nicely, too. She was getting along especially well with Jack, who interested her to no end, and two of the freshmen, Ransom and Holster. 

Ransom, it turned out, was in her English class and they had started sitting together once they figured that out. Well, he sat beside her to apologize on behalf of Holster when he noticed her, and by the time he went to get up his seat had been taken. So, they shrugged and were now getting through Freshman Lit together. 

Holster was growing on her, though, despite how different they were. Larissa was more on the quiet side, while Holster seemed to think it was illegal to use his indoor voice. But he was actually funny, and surprisingly kind, and when he and Ransom were together they were sort of irresistible? They fed off of each other, and it made them a little more wild but also a little more balanced and tolerable too. Ransom became a little louder and Holster a little more subdued to make room for his friend. 

Plus, the way they interacted was really sweet to watch. They were constantly touching- holding hands, bumping shoulders, wrestling. If Larissa didn’t know that Holster was “in the texting phase” with at least three girls, two of whom Ransom had set him up with, she would have thought they were an item. Apparently, they were just overwhelmingly comfortable with each other, and Larissa was finding she really liked being around that kind of energy. Maybe she was even a little jealous of it.

And then there was Shitty. He was… well, he was something. She sort of felt like if chaos was a person, it would be him. After he and Jack had walked her back to her dorm that night, Shitty had decided they were friends. He gave her warm greetings whenever he saw her, even when it was just in passing between classes or across the Quad. They chatted easily at dinner, Shitty doing most of the talking but Larissa being invested and contributing her own input or stories when she felt like it. It was… really nice. 

She was different with these boys than she was with anyone else. 

With Jack, she was quiet, and so was he. They spoke in succinct, honest sentences and shared amicable silences. He looked at her art, and showed her pictures on his laptop he had taken back in Canada. It was simple and gentle and nice. 

With Ransom and Holster, Larissa was loud. It turned out their energy was infectious. With them, she snorted when she laughed and threw french fries at them and talked about girls in a way she had never been able to before. With Holster and Ransom, she was one of the bros, and that was a surprisingly good feeling. 

And with Shitty she was a Larissa she hadn’t known existed. She was quiet like she was with Jack, but then Shitty would say something that had no right to be so damn funny and she would let out a cackle that surprised her more than it did him. With Shitty, Larissa was starting to realize that she had never really had a best friend before, but that maybe she could now. 

She had always thought that all the talk about finding yourself in college was bullshit, but these boys were making her wonder just how much of what she had previously believed might be changed by this place.

* * *

Saturday afternoon was Larissa’s weekly skype call with her parents. 

She texted her mother pretty constantly throughout the week. Her dad, though, was absolutely useless when it came to technology so Saturday Skype Sessions (the official title, as declared by her father) was really the only time she talked to him except for sporadic phone calls.

At exactly 1pm, the call popped up on her computer. Larissa took a deep breath before accepting. 

“Larissa!” her parents said at the same time. 

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I swear you guys practice that.” 

“You had lunch already, yes?”

“Yes, ma’am. I did ramen today- didn’t feel like leaving the dorm since it’s so rainy out.” 

Her mother made a face. “But you have been eating in the cafeteria usually?”

Larissa nodded. “Yes, mama, every day. This is the first day this week that I haven’t, and it’s only for lunch. I had breakfast there just this morning.”

Her mother smiled, satisfied. Larissa knew she worried about things like her getting enough to eat and sleeping right, knowing that sometimes when Larissa was pulled deep into an art project it could mess with both. 

“How are your art classes this week, Larissa?” her father’s voice was stiff, but not intentionally.

The thing about Larissa’s father was that he managed to be both her biggest fan and also her worst enemy. He had so much faith in her, but he didn’t understand her desire to make art for a living. He was glad she had a hobby she enjoyed, but that was all art was supposed to be. 

Their relationship had been strained the past two years while she had gotten serious about art and applied to schools for it. They argued more than they ever had, but once she’d chosen Samwell - the only non-art school she had applied to - they stopped fighting. Larissa knew he hoped she would change her mind, pick a different major with more secure job opportunities. 

But, when Larissa had come home homesick her second weekend at Samewell, her father’s tune had changed. They had had a long talk, about how she wasn’t clicking with any of the other art students she had met, and her assignments were hard. She had cried, and he had looked her in the eyes and told her not to give up. 

Since then, she could tell he had been trying, and she was both thankful and relieved. She hated fighting with him, hated them not being best friends. 

“Classes are good. I finished the project I was working on with oil pastels and now this week will be the start of paint, I think.” she grinned. “And I finished that essay I was complaining about last week for Lit. I feel pretty confident.” Holster, who hated English but was weirdly good at it, had read it over for her. Now at least she knew her grammar mark would be better.

Her parents high-fived, and Larissa laughed. Her dad was a high-five kind of man, but for obvious reasons he couldn’t high-five her, so her mother had agreed to be his stand in. They were ridiculous, and Larissa really fucking loved them. 

“What else is new this week? Are you making friends?” her mother asked. Her father got a little closer at the screen to try to look at her better, and she smiled.

“Remember when I told you I was applying to some campus jobs?” at this, both her parents sat up a little straighter, clearly interested. “One of them got back to me. I’m doing a sort of test run right now with the manager of the school’s hockey team to see if I’d be a good fit to take his place since he’s graduating this year.” 

Her father’s smile was wide, but her mother looked a little confused. “Larissa, you can’t skate.”

Larissa and her father both laughed at this. “I don’t have to for this job. I’d be like their organizer. Taking notes at practice and games, keeping stats, helping with anything else the coaches and captain need. That sort of thing.”

“You say you’ve been testing it out? How do you like it?” 

“It’s good,” Larissa nodded, smiling at her father. “It’s really good, actually. The team is really nice, and so are the coaches. Plus, I’m finally on a real schedule now since I have to wake up for their stupid 6am practices.”

Her father laughed. “You? Up before 10? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Maybe we will see it. This weekend is Family Weekend, right?” her mother asked, reaching out of frame to go through what Larissa knew was her work planner. 

“Yeah, there’s a big game that day. Are you guys coming?”

“Of course we are. It’s already in my planner.” her mother told her. 

Larissa and her father laughed. “We can’t go against the planner.” 

* * *

That Sunday was her first Team Brunch. 

It was an absolute mess. 

Trying to fit every member of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team into the Haus was a tricky feat, but it was sort of nice, too. It was crammed, Larissa, Jack, and Shitty eating on the floor in the living room, but to Larissa it just added to the sweetness of the gesture. All these men wanted to spend time together so badly that they were willing to eat on the floor (or worse, on the couch). 

Sunday was apparently the only day that Jack and McDonough didn’t go nuts if the guys broke their diet. 

“Jack only lets us because his Canadian ass can’t resist the maple syrup, either.” Shitty told her as she eyed Jack’s pancakes. 

Jack nudged him with his foot, but didn’t disagree, which made Larissa smile. 

“So, Duan,” Holster said, plopping down next to her. “McDonough said your folks are coming for Family Weekend?” 

Larissa must have made a face, because Jack came to her rescue immediately. “We don’t have to talk about that.” 

She shot Jack a grateful smile. “No, it’s alright. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.” 

The boys nodded, all of them getting it in one way or another. 

“Well, it’d be cool to meet them, if you’re comfortable.” Jack told her. “You’ve got family coming too, right, Ransom?”

Ransom, who was leaning against the wall beside Jack, already finished with his breakfast, smile grinned. “Yeah, my mom and my sister are coming down. Meeting Holtzy’s parents on the way, I think. Right, Holtz?”

“According to my mom,” Holster said around a mouthful of pancakes. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and recited a text. “We’ll make sure Justin’s family is all taken care of, so don’t either of you boys worry about anything besides kicking Yale’s ass.”

Shitty snorted into his pancakes, and even Jack cracked a smile. 

“Dude, I can’t wait to meet your mom.” 

Holster grinned. “Yeah, she’s psyched, she loves this kind of stuff.”

“Are your parents coming to the game?” Ransom asked her. 

Larissa tried to imagine preventing her dad from going to the game and laughed to herself. “Definitely. My dad is just glad he’s got an excuse to drag my mom with him. She can’t say no now that I’m…”

What? Part of the team?

Ransom and Holster exchanged glances before quietly chanting “One of us! One of us!”

Larissa laughed as they progressively got louder, and most of the team joined in- she couldn’t tell if it was jock hive mind to chant what your teammates were chanting or if they all agreed. Either way, it was hilarious and endearing how easy it was to get this team going.

“Alright, alright!” McDonough called from his place at the stove. “Eat your damn pancakes so I can go enjoy my one day off from you gremlins.”

“You love us, Mickey!” Holster shouted to him.

She could hear McDonough’s soft chuckle. “Yeah, but I’ve also got a life outside of managing, believe it or not.”

“Is that allowed?” Wagner asked loudly from his spot on the couch. Someone else yelled about homework not counting as a life. 

“Not that it’s your business, but I have a study date, you dicks.”

The room erupted. There were wolf-whistles and questions shouted toward the kitchen and kissy-sounds made.

Larissa shook her head and chuckled. “You’re really all up each other’s asses, huh?” she remarked to Jack, who laughed a little. 

“Yeah, we spend so much time together that it’s actually sort of impressive McDonough kept this under wraps for so long.” he admitted, looking a little curious himself. 

Shitty plopped down beside Jack, and Larissa blinked at him. In the chaos, she hadn’t even noticed that he’d left. His plate had a fresh stack of pancakes on it, and Larissa could feel the eye-roll Jack gave him in her soul. 

“C’mon, Jacko, you know I’ve been extra good with the meal plan this week.”

Jack was quiet for a moment, and then laughed. “You got McDonough to tell you what he was making for brunch ahead of time, didn’t you?”

Shitty grinned at him and dug into his second helping. 

The team filtered out slowly as they finished eating, and when Shitty finished eating he beckoned Larissa to follow him up the stairs. McDonough, Jack, and Shitty lived in the Haus, so she'd been spending a decent amount of time there lately after team dinners and was starting to feel comfortable being there. It would take a while for her to get used to the state of disaster it was apparently always in, but it was a frat house, so she was looking past it. 

Shitty’s room, though, was surprisingly clean. Not spotless, obviously, but way better than she’d expected from him. He made a stop in his top desk drawer and went through another door. Larissa followed him through what was apparently a bathroom and into another bedroom. 

Jack was sitting at the desk, and Larissa knocked on the doorframe of the bathroom, looking at him. He looked up from his computer and smiled. 

“Dude, your room is attached to Shitty’s?” She asked, maybe in awe. She liked the dude, but she couldn’t imagine sharing a bathroom with him. 

Jack laughed. “Yeah, uh, it’s an experience.” 

“There are so many stories behind that sentence and I want to hear all of them.” she insisted, pointing at him. 

He nodded, then gestured towards the window. “You can come in, by the way. Shitty’s in the reading room.”

Larissa quirked an eyebrow at him, and he nodded. She made her way to the window, stuck her head out, and snorted. “Oh, god, you guys are total goons.”

“Welcome to the best seat in the Haus, brah.” Shitty tucked his arms behind his head and lounged on the lawn chair that sat on the sliver of roof that was the reading room. “Or on the Haus, technically.”

She climbed out the window and sat cross-legged right in front of the window. “This is sick,” she admired, peeking down to the lawn below them. It was only the second floor, so it wasn’t so high it was scary, but it was still high enough to get her heart beating a little quicker than normal. 

“It’s a good spot.” he said, extending his hand to her. “Wanna smoke?” 

Larissa blinked down at his hand and saw the joint he was offering. 

“No pressure or anything, we can just turn on some music and hang, too.” he assured her, and she realized her surprise must have shown on her face. 

“Nah, dude, I’m down. It’s just- is it really okay to do it up here?” she gestured to the roof, and the street directly in front of them. She knew there was stuff in both the NCAA rules and the University code of conduct about substances, but she didn’t know the specifics. And she doubted Shitty would do anything to put either of them in violation of those rules (or at the very least in danger of being caught violating them). 

Shitty nodded. “People don’t really notice. Besides, the LAX bros may suuuuuper fucking suck, but since we’re neighbors we’ve seen them doing stuff we could rat them out about, too. So we all just sort of stay quiet.” he explained, pulling a lighter out of his pocket. “Same goes for all of Frat Row, really.”

“That’s… actually kinda sweet?” she watched as Shitty took the first hit. 

It was sort of mesmerizing. He had pretty much been talking 90% of the time she had spent with him so far, and generally pretty loudly. But now he was quiet, and she watched as his shoulders relaxed as he exhaled the smoke into the air. This felt like closer to the real Shitty than the Shitty she saw around the team. This was more what he was like that first time she had been alone with him and Jack- calm and certain. 

Wordlessly, he passed the joint to her and she took her hit without hesitation. It wasn’t the first time she had smoked- not even the first time at Samwell. The few people she had hung out with so far this year were pretty big on it, and she was comfortable enough with it from high school to participate easily. But it was the first time she hadn’t worried about it.

In high school, it had always been something she’d been paranoid about. Her parents weren’t strict about many things, but drugs was the one thing they always lectured her about. She was convinced most of their knowledge about it came from lame family tv shows, but it didn’t matter how ridiculous they were about it or how unlikely it was they would actually find out about her doing it- she always felt a little worried and a lot guilty when she smoked. 

This time, though, she didn’t. She exhaled the smoke and saw Shitty’s peaceful smile and she couldn’t find a trace of guilt in her mind. 

They talked out in the reading room for a few hours, exchanging stories and jokes with the occasional chirps from an overhearing Jack. It was the chillest hang out Larissa had had in a long time, and she knew that even if she didn’t really like hockey, she definitely liked these boys. 

* * *

Larissa’s second week shadowing McDonough flew by a lot faster than she would have liked. Jack told her it was one of the downsides to having such a strict routine- it made everything feel somehow faster and slower at the same time. 

It was also this week she’d found out McDonough was a Philosophy major. Not at all surprising. 

Practices were going great. Larissa had made a place for herself on the bench, watching closely with McDonough and the coaches. She typed away all practice, taking down stats and her own notes as well as whatever she could catch of what the coaches and McDounough talked about. She had never been more thankful for her ability to type without looking at the screen. 

The team was doing well, too, working harder and harder each day. With each practice, Larissa found herself more familiar with each player’s style, strengths, and weaknesses. 

By Wednesday, she was in several SMH related groupchats and Ransom and Holster spent most of the day Thursday insisting that Larissa and her parents join them and their families for brunch on Saturday before the game. 

Friday night after practice and dinner, Larissa went back to the Haus with McDonough, not wanting to be in her empty dorm room where she could focus on only her nerves.

Shitty and Jack had finished up their dinners quicker than most of the team, so it was just her, McDonough, and Johnson walking back. 

It was the first time she had spent time with Johnson outside of practice, but she liked him already because of how highly McDonough spoke about him. It wasn’t anything he had said, exactly, but the tone of voice when he talked about their goalie. He sounded… reverent.

Since it was a Friday night on a college campus it wasn’t exactly quiet out. There was shouting in the distance in pretty much every direction, the pounding of different music seemingly coming from nowhere. She hadn’t been to a hockey kegster yet, but from what the guys told her and what she’d heard from others about the hockey team, they’d be doing the same right now if they didn’t have a game tomorrow.

After living on campus for a few months, though, and living in Boston her entire life, she found the nightlife noise sort of soothing. She liked that Samwell could be both the quiet picturesque school and this wild party school so interchangeably. 

So it was a relatively quiet walk back, just the sounds of night life and McDonough giving Johnson last minute notes on plays that she knew he’d probably already told his friend a million times. 

“Ken,” Johnson said suddenly, shutting McDonough up. Larissa was horribly torn between looking at them out of pure curiosity and putting her headphones in and giving them privacy. It was impossible for her to look away, though, since she had to walk behind them on the narrow sidewalk. 

She’d never heard anyone call him Ken. The team called him Mickey, or McDonough. Even she didn’t call him Kennedy anymore, now that she was more comfortable with the bro-y last name culture.

“You need to breathe. Here.”

Larissa was looking at her shoes, but she could see out of the top of her vision Johnson take McDonough’s hand in his own. 

McDonough tensed and made a move as if to look back at Larissa, but Johnson’s next words stopped him.

“You don’t have to worry about her.”

That got her attention. She looked at Johnson, but he was looking at McDonough and McDonough was looking at him and Larissa realized they had all stopped walking now and Larissa has absolutely no idea what to do in this situation.

“You don’t have to worry about the game, either. We’ve got it.”

McDonough chuckled. “Is that confidence or a gut feeling?”

“Both,” Johnson said. Larissa recalled Ransom telling her in a slightly spooked voice that Johnson was always right about everything. Maybe those gut feelings were what he had meant?

McDonough sighed. “It’s just hard having no control once the puck drops.” 

“But you do everything you can up until that point. You give 100%, maybe more. That’s all you can do, the rest is up to us. You just have to trust us.” Johnson’s voice was soft and kind, but the speech was well rehearsed. She got the feeling they had had this conversation before. “Do you trust us?”

McDonough nodded, and Johnson smiled. 

“I’m gonna go on ahead. You two should talk.” Johnson said, gesturing to Larissa. McDonough’s eyes widened and the look on his face told her he had been so caught up in Johnson he had forgotten she was there. She couldn’t blame him.

Johnson waved to them both and began walking towards the Haus. 

McDonough scratched the back of his head awkwardly and chuckled. “Well, that was, uh…”

“He was right, you know.” Larissa spoke up. McDonough’s eyebrows raised. “You don’t have to worry about me. Or the team.”

He smiled at her, a more reserved than his usual sunny grin. “Thank you.”

They began walking again, and Larissa wondered what he was thinking. She wasn’t the kind of person to push; people would talk when they’re ready. But that didn’t make her any less curious.

“I came to Samwell on a hockey scholarship.”

It hung in the air while Larissa’s brain processed it. People didn’t get scholarships to be managers. She wasn’t sure what to say, or if he wanted her to say anything, so she just nodded. 

It was enough, apparently, because he continued. “I got injured during the Family weekend game my sophomore year.” 

She had figured it was coming, but that didn’t make it easier to hear. 

“Coaches were nice enough to keep me around with this job. Johnson…” his voice was shaking a little, and he cleared his throat. “Johnson stepped in as goalie and I guess I sort of made him my responsibility. We did extra practices and I worked real closely with him to get him where he needed to be. He was only a frog, but…” he broke off and chuckled. “He ended up helping me a lot more than I helped him, I think.”

Larissa smiled.

They were quiet for a while, until Larissa got the courage to ask, “So, that date you went on last week…”

He nudged her with his elbow. “No chirping your upperclassmen, Duan.” He laughed, and just like that his sunshine was back. Larissa envied him.

* * *

Her parents were… excited. Both of them. 

It shouldn’t have been as shocking as it was. They hugged her tight, and helped her bring a bin of clothes up to her dorm. 

“It’s getting colder every day. I don’t want you catching a cold just because you’re convinced it’s summer until you see snow.” Her mother scolded. 

“Thank you, mama.” she kissed her mother’s cheek, and the strictness dissolved into fondness. 

Her father slid the bin under her bed and turned to her, pulling a map of campus out of his back pocket. “So, where to first?”

Larissa grinned. “Most important thing first.”

She took them to Annie’s, and her father was thrilled.

“This might even be better than mine.” he admitted, which was high praise from him. Coffee was the one thing that the three of them always agreed on, and it was a nice constant. 

“Is this where we’re having brunch with your friends?” her mother asked, looking at the menu a little hopefully. 

Larissa giggled. “Yes, so don’t go ordering anything now or else you’ll be full.” 

Her father was looking at the event schedule for the weekend again. She could see from where she sat that he had some things circled in pen. 

“There is a student art exhibit up.” he observed. 

Larissa’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything, waiting. She could see out of the corner of her eye that her mother was smiling. 

“We should go.” he said, finally. 

Larissa nodded. “I’ll get to go cups for us.”

* * *

She didn’t know if her father knew that she had a piece in the exhibit or not. They were displaying at least one piece from each art student, though the show mostly showcased upperclassmen works. 

Larissa hadn’t mentioned that she would be featured, but she supposed that the show’s description in the Family Weekend brochure may have said that it included all the art majors. 

It was nice enough out that the exhibit was on the quad instead of indoors, savoring the last bit of warmth before the cold really settled in. 

Her mother hooked her arm in Larissa’s elbow and they perused like that, commenting on color choices and style as they walked behind her father. He said nothing as he looked at the pieces, and it was stressing her out. 

Finally, he stopped in front of a painting and Larissa’s breath caught in her throat as she waited.

They all stared at it for a few minutes. It had originally started out as an abstract piece. She hadn’t has a specific goal with it, Larissa had just known she had feelings she wanted to get out and let her brushes do the work. 

She hadn’t noticed until she was finished that she had painted hockey sticks. 

Her mother let go of her arm and nudged her forward. Larissa stumbled a bit, then stood beside her father. He still said nothing, but put his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. 

Tears burned in her eyes for a few moments until she could blink them back. Her father kissed the top of her head, squeezed her shoulder, and then let go.

“We should be getting to brunch. Don’t want to be late.” his voice was slightly hoarse when he spoke, and it made Larissa’s heart swell. 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

* * *

Brunch was something else entirely. 

If she thought her parents had been excited to see her, it was nothing compared to the enthusiasm of Ransom’s mother and sister. 

Holster, apparently, got his lack of volume control from his mother. She was loud and charming and Larissa would never get tired of hearing her tell embarrassing stories of Holster as a kid. 

The most surprising part of the whole ordeal, though, was that Larissa’s parents had a good time. Her father bonded with Holster’s father immediately- apparently, Mr. Birkholtz had played hockey in college, too. 

Her mother was generally good at making friends with other adults, but she really hit it off with Mrs. Oluransi. 

Meanwhile, Larissa thought Ransom’s sister was one of the coolest people on the planet, and the boys were chirping them about becoming penpals. 

It was the most fun meal that Larissa had had with her parents since she had told her father she was going to be an Art major almost a year ago, and she kept sneaking pictures on her phone of everyone chatting and laughing to print and maybe paint later. 

The energy in the locker room was tangible. The boys were tense -Larissa could see it in Shitty’s shoulders, in Jack’s posture. Ransom’s shaking hands and Holster’s chewed up nails- but they were also focused, and excited, and _ready._

The most calming thing was Johnson and McDonough. 

Maybe she noticed it because of what she had seen last night, but they were both completely calm. McDonough was talking to the coaches, and Johnson had headphones in, leaning back in his stall across the room, a barely there smile on his face as he watched McDonough. 

His words from last night came back to her. 

_Trust us._

And she did. 

* * *

The game was rough from the get-go. 

Larissa was tempted to pick up Holster’s nail biting habit as she watched helplessly as Jack got shoved into the boards again. 

Every time one of them took a hit, she couldn’t help wincing. 

Watching her friends play hockey was a lot different than watching NHL games or peewee hockey. 

A gloved-hand squeezed her shoulder and Larissa turned to look at Shitty. 

“It gets easier.” he told her, somehow speaking softly despite the howling crowd around them. 

She had a love/hate relationship for how well Shitty could read her. 

His hand was a soothing weight on her shoulder until it was his turn to take the ice. 

She didn’t think she would feel this much, no matter the outcome. 

McDonough pulled her into a bone shattering hug when the buzzer went off and the crowd erupted. 

It was a shutout. 

3-0 in Samwell’s favor.

The boys were joyful chaos on the ice, and Larissa was crying into McDonough’s shoulder. 

When he finally let her breathe, she smiled. “I love hockey,” she told him, and he started laughing. 

“You’ll stay?”

Larissa scoffed. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

* * *

A few weeks later, Larissa knelt on the ice, howling up at the moon through the giant Faber windows. 

“Alright, Frog.” McDonough said sternly, looking down at her. “When you stand, it will be as an official member of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team.”

Larissa nodded, though she didn’t think it was really a choice. She was in this now, and she wouldn’t turn back even if she could. 

“Rise, Lardo, SMH Manager.”

Larissa stood on wobbly legs, her socked feet sliding a little on the ice. The boys whooped and cheered. 

Holster and Ransom were on either side of her and when McDonough made an upward gesture, they grabbed onto her and hoisted her up between them. “Lardo!” they yelled, and it practically echoed around the rink. 

She already knew that she would be standing in this rink four years from now, but this declaration felt like assurance that they wanted that, too. She slung her arms around Holster and Ransom’s necks and grinned out at the rest of the team as they yelled her new nickname. 

**_Lardo_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! 
> 
> I'm planning on writing more about McDonough and Johnson, so let me know what you think of them in this fic!
> 
> Also, let me know how you felt about Shitty, Ransom, and Holster. I'm not super comfortable writing them yet, so any feedback is always appreciated. 
> 
> You can come yell with me about these hockey nerds on tumblr @ jeanjacketbittle


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